What Just Happened?
by clair beaubien
Summary: Set vaguely early S7, with no Leviathans and only mild hallucinations. Suddenly, Sam is afraid to be away from Dean.
1. Chapter 1

A/N 1: Yes, another WIP. Sorry. I was telling a friend today that in "real life", I am sorely lacking in interpersonal skills, and writing & posting is pretty much the only way I have of connecting to other people. Especially when everything hurts as much as it does right now. My sister has always been my "go to" person when I'm hurting only now I can't exactly expect her to comfort me when I can't even imagine how she's still functional.

A/N 2: The good news is - I have 3 more finished chapters of this story just waiting to be posted as well. I'll post one a day or every other day and see if I can actually finish this story before too long.

* * *

Sam woke up in bed.

_Next to Dean. _

Worse even than waking up next to his brother, Sam's hand had a pretty good grip on the back of Dean's flannel shirt, and he was pulling it across the foot or so of mattress between them, like he'd been trying to pull Dean closer.

_This was not good._

Dean at least was facing away from him, so it wasn't like they'd been _cuddling_ or anything. Recently at least. Dean was sleeping on top of the blankets and Sam had the bedspread tucked around him. Why was he holding onto Dean's shirt? Why couldn't he remember? And why couldn't he let go?

This was _so_ not good.

A trial movement of his body and limbs told Sam nothing was broken, stitched up, or missing. Nothing was out of place.

Except of course that he was sleeping with Dean and had a death grip on his shirt.

"Dean?" he tried. His mouth was dry and his voice was soft. There wasn't much energy behind it. "_Dean_?"

"_Still too early_." Dean mumbled. He sounded like he'd said it at least once already today.

"For what?"

"For 'wakey wakey'. Go back to sleep. I'll let you know when you can get up."

_When I can get up?_ Sam wondered. _Dude, I don't need you to sign me a permission slip. _He relaxed his fingers, let go of Dean's shirt, and sat up.

"What are you _do_-ing?" Dean asked in a sing-song voice.

"Getting _u-_up." Sam answered in the same sing-song. That made Dean turn over.

"Sam?"

"Unless you know something I don't."

Dean sat up, looking confused and suspicious.

"_Sam_?"

"_Yeah?_"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

_So_ not good.

"What d'you mean? What is it that I _don't_ remember?"

"Just tell me – what's the last thing you remember?"

"Uhh -." Sam thought about it. "Driving. Dark. Rain."

"Great." Dean groused and got out of bed. "That could be any one of the last seven nights."

"_Seven_?" Sam looked around; the overly bright, antiseptic-looking motel room was not familiar at all. "How – what – am I missing _days_? _Dean?"_

"No. I don't know. What's the last thing you remember before that?"

Sam thought back again. An unpleasant memory bloomed.

"Macaroni and cheese. _Bad_ macaroni and cheese."

"Good – good. That was last night at that diner. Good."

So – Dean was happy Sam remembered something concrete; Sam wished he hadn't. The food had been off color and musty tasting and just the two or three forkfuls he'd braved left a permanent taste in his mouth.

"You don't think I've been possessed by food, do you?" It sounded even stupider saying it than it had thinking it, but hey - they'd seen some pretty weird crap in their day.

"Dude – when have you _ever_ been possessed by food?"

"Well what happened? Why are we -." Sam gestured to the bed. "Was I sick? Food poisoning?" _That was too easy to hope for, wasn't it?_

"You were – uh – you were -."

"Dean – _what?_"

"_Needy." _Dean said it like he was trying to explain away something unpleasant.

Sam had been expecting descriptions of head-spinning, gut-chucking, mind-blowing violence. _Needy_ wasn't even close.

"Needy?"

"Um – _clingy_?"

"_Clingy_?" Sam seriously did not like any of these answers.

"Yeah. Clingy. Worried-and-didn't-want-me-out-of-your-sight clingy."

"Bu-wha-I-jus-wha-did- _WHAT?_"

"Let's not panic." Dean said. "We'll figure this out."

"Easy for you to say – you're not the one who woke up hanging onto your big brother's shirt like a safety blanket."

Dean looked hurt.

"Not like it's the first time that's ever happened to you."

"First time since I've been in _double digits_."

"All right, just take it easy. You're obviously OK, we'll figure this out." Dean paced a couple of steps, rubbing the back of his neck before gesturing to Sam. "Do you remember anything from last night? Something you thought was a dream, maybe? Or anything after the bad mac and cheese?"

"No, nothing." Sam watched him pace the few steps back and forth. "I remember I gave up on the macaroni and was gonna send it back and get a sandwich or something. I drank some soda…" He stared at the memory in his head but felt like he was watching it through a black veil. "You started telling me something about needing to fix the car and then –." He motioned to the bed.

"Yeah, I remember that." Dean said. And he said it with a smile that made Sam cringe, like he was enjoying this way too much.

"Oh God – _what?_"

"_Nothing._ Nothing _bad_. That's just when this all seemed to start is all."

"When _WHAT_ seemed to start?" Sam demanded. If Dean didn't stop being so cryptic, he was going to start being so dead.

To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 2

The night before:

"_How's the headache?" Dean asked, as they started eating their dinners._

_"Going away. Those pills work pretty fast."_

_"They're not the only thing she had that worked fast." Dean said, making a suggestive reference to the girl he got them from. _

_Sam sighed and ate a forkful of his macaroni and cheese._

"_Oh, that is just rank." He said, pushing the plate away from himself. "I can't eat that."_

_"What's wrong with it?" _

_"It's __**musty.**__" He looked around for the waitress, catching her eye and motioning her back. "This doesn't taste right. Can I get a BLT instead?"_

_"Sure thing Hon. Sorry about that."_

_"With French fries?"_

_"You got it."She winked at Sam and carried his plate away._

_"I think she likes you." Dean said. He only ever said that to Sam when the waitress was old enough to be their grandmother. _

_"I think she just feels sorry for me that I'm with you." _

_"Yeah, because no female will notice you when you're with me…"_

_Sam shook his head but smiled. _

_"So, what's with the car?"_

_"I need to check the rear brakes. They're making a funny noise every once in a while. Don't want to be high-tailing it away from some small-town sheriff and have the brakes give out on a sharp turn."_

_"Maybe we should just avoid small-town sheriffs?" Sam suggested._

_"Yeah, when was the last time we had a say in that?" Dean took another bite of his cheeseburger. "I'll drop you off at the library or wherever while I hit the car parts store."_

_Dean wondered if Sam didn't get whiplash his head came up so fast._

_"Can't I come with?"_

_Well, that came out of the blue. _

_"To a _car parts place_?" _

_"Well – yeah -" Sam got that look that pulled his eyebrows together and made him look like he was trying to figure his way across a disintegrating rope bridge. "How long will it take you?"_

_"I don't know – depends. If the first place is close by and has what I need, in and out." _

_"And if not?" _

_"If not – I try another store." Dean shrugged but looked closer at Sam. "Why – what's going on?" _

_"I just – nothing. Just –I can't come with?" He sounded casual enough, maybe nothing was going on._

"_Sure, yeah. Of course you can come with. You just never expressed much interest in car parts stores before."_

"_I just – I just don't want -."_

"_Just don't want what?" Dean asked. But the answer that Sam was stalling over got interrupted when the waitress set Sam's new plate down in front of him. Sam gave her a smile that looked fine except Dean knew it was a pained expression. _

_Dean waited until the waitress had moved away and repeated his question to Sam. _

"_Sam? Don't want what?"_

"_Dontwannabealone." Sam muttered down to his BLT and French fries. _

_Right. Sam "I need allll the space" Winchester didn't want to be alone. _

"_Sammy?" Dean asked as calmly as he could. He didn't think Sam was pulling a prank on him, and for Sam to be this needy, it meant something bad __**had**__ happened or __**was**__ happening or was __**about**__ to happen. _"What's going on?" 

_And Sam looked at him and gave him the most chilling answer he could under the circumstances:_

"_**I don't know."**_

_Dean took a breath and ran through a quick mental review of anything and everything that could be going on. _

"_How do you feel? Nauseous? Your headache's gone? Any aches or pains or 'don't remember that from before' sensations?"_

"_No." Sam answered slowly, apparently turning all the possibilities over in his mind. "My headache's not totally gone, it's still floating around, but it's okay. And – no to any of the rest."_

"_Okay. So far, so good. When were we apart last? This morning when I paid for the gas? You were getting your jacket out of the trunk. You remember anything happening then? Anybody come near the car or did you hear any sounds? See any lights? Black smoke?"_

"_No. __**Nothing.**__ Nothing I can remember."_

"_And it's not a vision. Or an hallucination" Dean said. Because if it was, Sam would've already said so. _

"_No, I'm not seeing anything." They both kept their voices low. "It's just – I'm just – _scared_. And I don't know of what. Except -."_

"_Except what?" _

"_Except –" Sam was obviously reluctant to say. "Except I'm scared to be away from you." _

To Be Continued


	3. Chapter 3

"_Oh God_." Sam didn't know how to feel as Dean told him what had happened the night before. Embarrassed, ashamed, scared, angry, or what. "Did something devolve me to age five? I haven't been scared to be away from you since my first day of Kindergarten."

He really didn't like the smile Dean smiled.

"Now that you mention it, yeah. Age five sounds about right."

"_Would you stop grinning like that?"_ Sam demanded. "_This is serious."_

"_Seriously cute." _Dean just had to say, didn't he? Like he was okay with this? Sam _seriously_ considered all the ways he could kill his brother and rubbed a thumb between his eyebrows. That gesture apparently got Dean's attention. "Really, Sam – how's the head? Still got the headache?"

"I can imagine it's on its way back."

"Need something for it?"

"No, not yet. I just – need to let this all sink in."

"This is really bothering you." Dean sounded surprised. He sat on the bed next to Sam.

"_Gee, just a little." _Sam snapped, still rubbing his thumb against his forehead.

"It's all right." Dean said, and his voice was the low, quiet, comforting tone. "We'll get this figured out."

Sam wanted the words to reassure him, comfort him, but too many other things swirled around the edges of '_what the freaking else can go wrong?'_

"And if we don't? If it happens again, or _keeps _happening?"

And there was that annoying, '_big brother is enjoying this a little too much'_ smile again.

"Then we spend a few nights raising a few eyebrows by getting only one bed in every motel room from here to Bobby's, and I get to relive the glory days of being your bulwark."

Sam's eyes squeezed shut and opened again all on their own at that word.

"_Bulwark?_"

"Yeah, _bulwark._ Safeguard, protection, defense. _Bulwark._"

"You know the _word bulwark?" _

"Hey, I _am_ the word bulwark." Dean answered. "I just want to not have to _say_ it anymore." He tapped Sam's shoulder and got off the bed. "Why don't you get dressed and we'll go get breakfast. At a _different_ diner, just in case."

"Yeah. I guess. Yeah." Sam stood up from the bed while _Bulwark_ stayed close and watched him gain his feet.

"Anything? Dizzy? New aches or pains making themselves known?"

"Dizzy, maybe. A little. Could just be the after affects." Sam took a few steps toward the bathroom. "I'm okay." He said, knowing Dean was waiting for an answer to the unasked question.

"Good. Wouldn't want a repeat of last night." Dean said, still sounding much too happy about the whole thing.

Sam stopped, but only briefly, and rubbed his thumb between his eyebrows again. This was _so_ not good.

To be Continued


	4. Chapter 4

The night before

_Sam managed to eat his BLT, hunched over his plate and not looking anywhere but from his sandwich to Dean and back again. He was getting worse. Dean dropped all talk of going anywhere, much less without Sam. While he ate his own dinner, Dean started considering all the possibilities of what could be going on._

_Their most recent hunt had been simple and easy – putting a vengeful spirit to rest by burning a Victorian-era bracelet made out of human hair. Before that, they'd spent three days investigating disembodied voices in an old apartment building that turned out to be just really good acoustics through really old pipes. _

_Nothing there that screamed or even whispered spells or curses. _

_They hadn't encountered any blood – including their own – in nearly three weeks, so Ghost Sickness wasn't a likely possibility. _

_That left – what?_

_At the moment, nothing but research apparently. _

"_You ready to head out?" Dean asked, when Sam finished his sandwich. "We'll head out and get a motel." He figured if whatever was going on was because of this little town, better to stick around and figure it out than get too far too fast and have to backtrack. _

"_Thought we were gonna drive another few hours after dinner." Sam said. His voice was steady, but his eyes were still a little wide._

"_I think it's better if we stop for the night now. Get some sleep –"_

"_I can sleep in the car." Sam said, quickly and immediately, and Dean wondered if he thought Dean was planning to do anything but stick right by his side until they figured this out. _

"_You need to sleep in a __**bed**__, Sam, and I can't exactly use a computer behind the wheel of the car, now can I?"_

_The breath, long and shuddering, that Sam let out then told Dean that he got what Dean was saying._

"_Yeah. Okay. I just – I'm sorry."_

"_Sorry that I get to spend a long night with my feet up and a bottle of beer in my hand? Yeah, you should be sorry." Dean pushed his plate away and pulled his wallet out. "This is probably nothing, Sammy. You're tired, you've had that headache. Nothing a good night's sleep can't take care of."_

"_You think?" Sam asked, and he sounded so hopeful._

"_I think it's the best first thing to try. C'mon – ready?"_

_Dean started to slide out of the booth, but stopped. _

"_Sammy, is anything in particular in this diner making you nervous?" _

_Sam shook his head, but his expression clearly said he was wondering what Dean was getting at. _

"_No. Why?"_

"_You gonna be okay to walk out of here?"_

_Sam got it. He nodded. _

"_If we can make it fast."_

_Dean nodded. He dropped the money for the bill onto the table and stood up, slowly enough that he could keep pace as Sam eased himself up. _

"_Just stick close." He told Sam, keeping his voice low. "It's not far to the door. We can make it. Keep your eyes on me. Okay, Sam? Keep your eyes on me."_

_Sam nodded. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes while he let it out again, then looked at Dean and nodded again. He stood a little straighter._

"_Okay."_

"_Okay." Dean echoed. He smiled at Sam's characteristic spine. "Let's get this done."_

_Dean headed out first, fast enough to get them out of there pronto, slow enough that he could feel Sam practically stepping on his heels. Nobody gave them any odd looks, and they get out to the parking lot and the car with nothing happening. _

"_All right, Sammy. Here we go." Dean opened the passenger door and shepherded Sam in. "A clean room, a warm bath, a soft bed – problem solved."_

"_Yeah. I hope."_

_Dean got behind the wheel, started the car, and headed them for the closest motel. They were barely out of the restaurant parking lot when he felt a tug and looked down…_

_Sam had a death grip on the bottom of Dean's jacket._

To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

The night before

_Dean headed down the main business drag, looking for the closest motel. The drive was uneventful. Sam resolutely kept to his side of the car, his fists pressed white knuckled into the seat on either side of him, staring straight ahead, looking pretty much normal, except for the every-three-second-glances he shot Dean. _

_And the grip he still had on Dean's jacket._

"_Coming in?" Dean asked Sam, when they parked in front of the glass-fronted office. _

"_In this condition, I think I might scare the clerk." Sam answered. The words came out a little stiff but at least he was coherent. Scared, but coherent, that was good. _

"_What could possibly be scary about an eight foot Sasquatch holding onto the hem of his brother's jacket?" _

_Dean wasn't sure he felt the humor entirely, but if he cracked jokes, Sam wouldn't worry as much. _

_Sure enough, Sam threw him a 'jerk' look, but then his eyes travelled down and he had to see how his left fist _was_ gripped around the bottom edge of Dean's leather jacket. _

"_Oh, gee." He sighed out. "I – gee." He pulled his hand away, obviously having to force his fingers to open and let go. "This is so stupid." _

"_We'll get it figured out, don't worry." Dean told him. He opened the car door and started to get out. Even though Sam turned his head away fast, Dean didn't miss the wide eyed look of panic on Sam's face. He sifted through a few fast options. They needed a room so he had to go into the office. An eight foot frightened Sasquatch probably _would_ scare the clerk, so Sam _not_ coming in with Dean was the better idea. _

_But – whatever the reason, eight feet or not, Sam _was_ frightened and Dean _was_ going to take care of him. _

"_Here." He shrugged out of his jacket and laid it across Sam's lap. "And here." He laid his keys and cell phone on top of it. "Hang onto these. You'll be able to see me through the window, all right?"_

"_But -." Sam held up the cell phone, but didn't finish his question. He closed his eyes and shook his head, but Dean knew what he was thinking. '_what if I need to call you?'

"_If you need me, beep the horn. Okay? I'll keep an eye on you out the windows."_

_Sam sighed and nodded and said, "Have I mentioned that I hate this?"_

"_Yeah – but _I'm_ having fun." Dean said and then grinned to sell it even further to Sam. "I won't take long."_

"_Okay…okay."_

_The old lady clerk was brisk, probably wanting to get back to whatever was blaring on her TV in the back room. Dean kept stealing looks out to the car, Sam was breathing hard, he could see it even at that distance, but he was calm. So – so far, so good. _

_Two beds, two keys, ten minutes later, Dean was back out to the car. He had to wait a second while Sam reached over to unlock the door, then he slid back inside. _

"_Okay?"_

"_Yeah." Sam answered, but the breath he breathed it out on shook and he had both his hands gripped around a clump of leather, keys, and cell phone. Dean pulled out the keys from the pile and drove them around the building to their room. _

_He asked again, "Okay?" when they were parked in front of the room. _

_It took a minute, with some deep breaths and abortive movements, but Sam stiffly handed back Dean's phone and jacket and nodded and got out his own side of the car. Scared but determined. Good, Dean could work with that. _

_He got out and pulled on his jacket and went to the trunk to get their stuff. He expected Sam to be glued to his side, but Sam stood a good ten feet away. His eyes were wide and his breath was still coming fast. But he was standing by himself. _

"_Why are you standing way over there?" Dean had to ask him. Was there something he was scared of at the car?_

"_To prove to myself that I can."__'_

_Dean grinned; even terrified, Sam stood his ground. So he pretended he didn't see the tremors running through Sam, and hauled his duffel onto his shoulder, then moved towards the door so Sam could get his pack and laptop. He took measured steps to the motel room door, listening behind him for any sound that things were getting too much for Sam. But no – the trunk shut and Sam's footsteps moved along the pavement, maybe a little faster than usual, but still within normal. Good, this was all good._

"_You want first shower?" Dean asked when the room was locked and salted and secured. Sam shook his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He'd kept his eyes glued on Dean the whole time, but he'd stayed sitting on the edge of his bed._

"_You're OK if I take a shower?" Dean made sure to ask. Sam nodded and belatedly added, _

"_Yeah. Yeah. It's – yeah."_

"_I can leave the door open." Dean offered, which was met by 'pfffft' and a short, stiff laugh from Sam._

"_I'll manage." _

_Still, Dean took a fast shower and was out in less than ten minutes. He came out to find Sam still sitting on the bed – on the very edge of the bed - closest to the bathroom, hunched forward with his hands pressed hard into the mattress on either side of him. He didn't look up when Dean walked past. _

"_Left some hot water if you want it." Dean said. _

"_No." Sam shook his head, and seemed to get stuck on the word. "No. No. No." Saying it until Dean pressed his hand on Sam's shoulder for five or ten seconds and it seemed to settle him. _

_It didn't settle Dean though – Sam seemed to be getting even worse if the span of a shower was enough to really rattle him. _

"_Bed, then." Dean said, even though it was barely seven PM." You get some sleep and I'll call Bobby and find out what he knows."_

"_What? Bobby? You're not gonna call Bobby?"_

"_Why not?"_

"_I don't want Bobby to know."_

_Really? Sam was flaking off into a five year old, Dean was running out of possibilities, and Sam didn't want to call in a big gun?_

"_Sam, he might know something that could have this taken care of tonight."_

"_Dean – __**please**__. I don't want him to know."_

_Dean held in his sigh of frustration and aggravation, and continued to mentally review their options. He could always call Bobby after Sam fell asleep of course, but Sam was looking so embarrassed and maybe it was just a one-time, headache related, exhaustion related, thing. _

_He could also always call Bobby in the morning. _

"_All right. No Bobby. But you lay down and get some sleep. Things'll be better in the morning." _

"_Yeah. Okay."_

_Dean moved away and Sam pulled his sweatpants and t-shirt out of his backpack. He didn't move to the bathroom though and Dean turned to his duffel on his own bed, keeping his back to Sam, giving him the space and privacy to do whatever he decided to do. After a minute Dean heard him go into the bathroom but not shut the door. Another minute and he was back out and Dean turned, intending to see him safely into bed and sleep and hopefully getting over whatever was going on. _

_Sam was only standing, staring at the bed. After a minute, he must've noticed Dean watching him and he plastered on an apologetic smile and pulled the blankets back. _

_And didn't get in._

"_You're not going anywhere, right?"_

_Dean tried hard to not let his face betray the worry that was rapidly turning into One More Bad Thing away from blossoming into panic. He grabbed the computer and the remote and dropped himself in the bed. _

"_Let's watch some TV."_

To Be Continued


	6. Chapter 6

This Morning:

Sam took the shower he hadn't taken the night before, had a shave and brushed his teeth. As he took care of his normal morning routine, he paid attention to his body, mind, and soul, looking for any sign of anything.

He wasn't having any hardline, full-blown hallucinations, and he didn't remember having any at the diner last night. The headache he'd had yesterday wasn't totally gone, but was more of just a dull reminder behind his eyes. No muscle aches, no tingles, no odd sensations.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe like Dean said it was just exhaustion combined with the headache combined with – whatever he'd said. Maybe it was nothing.

And maybe when Sam left the motel, he'd have to dodge those pigs that were sure to be flying around today.

He went back out to the room and tucked away his pajamas and shaving kit, while Dean was apparently trying to see into his soul through the back of his head.

"Dean, I'm _okay_."

"Let's see if we can keep it that way." Dean said, and Sam knew it was more of a promise than a request.

Just like Dean said, they went somewhere else for breakfast. He didn't even drive them down the same street as last night's diner. He picked an old-fashioned looking coffee shop and led the way to the first empty booth closest to the door.

Slouched down at the table, Sam leaned his head back against the high back the of the old wooden bench seat. He'd apparently gotten a sound sleep last night but he felt exhausted right now, and his headache was starting to pulse again near the corner of his eye.

"It was a new moon last night." He said.

"Yeah?" Dean answered over his menu.

Sam shrugged.

"Maybe it's tied to the moon. Maybe it'll get worse as the lunar cycle progresses."

"And maybe it's a one-time thing."

"And our lives would suddenly become that easy _because?_" Sam asked and Dean didn't answer as the waitress came to their table for their order.

Dean ordered his usual, something-something, lots of grease, and coffee, black. The waitress turned to Sam then and he didn't even straighten up in his seat. He just gestured to Dean.

"I'll have whatever he's having."

When the waitress left, Dean said, "You're having what _I'm_ having? Sammy, what happened last night is a problem, but no reason for you to become _suicidal_."

Sam wanted to smile, but he was just too tired.

"Easier than trying to look at a menu."

Dean gave him that assessing look then, looking for whatever Sam didn't realize or wasn't admitting to.

"Your headache's coming back."

"_No_."

"Yes, it is. Your eye's doing that thing."

Sam was never sure what 'that thing' was, but Dean could always see it. He rubbed his eyes.

"I'm tired. That's all."

"Mmm hmm." Dean said, obviously not believing him one bit. "Why don't you just take the pill now and have over with it, rather than wait until it's full blown? I'm gonna go change your order."

Sam grumbled but pulled the bottle out of his pocket. It was an Alleve bottle, but that's not what was inside. It was some prescription pills Dean had scored off of that dental hygienist down in Orlando. Jasmine, or Aurora, or Nala, or Lilo or whatever her Disneyesque name was. He popped a pill before Dean came back, and fought the urge to rest his head in his arms on the table.

"So – research?" He asked when Dean sat down again. He figured talking would keep him awake and keep his mind off his 'little problem'. "Where do we start? Curses? Spells?"

"Yeah, but we haven't run into anyone lately who fits the bill. Unless we've suddenly run into a skeeve who _doesn't_ monologue all their evil plans to us. And they're sure few and far between."

"Brain tumor." Sam said, after rummaging around his mind for other options. And Dean got that pinched look around his eyes like he just spotted a favorite enemy, but then his expression cleared.

"_And our lives would suddenly become that easy because?_" He asked.

Sam thought about it, but didn't have a comeback.

"I don't know." He sighed out.

"So – we'll eat, we'll go back and do some research. We'll call Bobby and between us all, we'll figure it out." He paused a significant moment. "You okay with calling Bobby today?"

Sam hesitated and shrugged a nod.

"What about your car?" he asked. "You didn't get the parts for the brakes yet."

"Don't you think _this_ is a little more important?" '

"What if we have to hightail it away from some small town sheriff?"

"Maybe we could just _avoid_ small town sheriffs?" Dean offered and Sam did manage a smile that time.

"That would be a nice change."

to be continued


End file.
